Monthly Archives: October 2012

Sand(y)storm

I admit it. When I first saw the email telling me that our university, like so many other institutions on the eastern seaboard, was closed, I experienced a distinct burst of giddiness. A day “off” is the thought I dared … Continue reading

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Stories people tell me (1)

I can’t promise this is exactly how the storytellers worded them, but what follows is how I heard the stories unfold. Below, the first of three heard this past week. Story 1 – graduate student, my office, in response to … Continue reading

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friday funnies

a mindset to avoid at all costs… via @hyperallergic — a fun twitter find; kind of like @vulture, with a serious (read: xtra amped) twist.

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today’s playlist

Those of us who write — for work, for play, for all the bits in between — think and talk to a great degree about voice. But so rarely in all that talk is there discussion of what the damn … Continue reading

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shifting materiality of the “work week”

This week, teaching meant being a student — returning to joyfulness, to receiving without the expectation of giving (in the familiar and staid ways), to sharing vulnerabilities through silence and observation, to giving oneself over to the unexpected shapes or … Continue reading

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Let there be (autumn) light

…grant writing… head down… but not so much that I was not taken in by the slowly changing light moving ever so swiftly through time just outside of this 11th floor window (I’ve currently sequestered myself in a strange building … Continue reading

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tragic flaw

We all have them, those personality traits or characteristics that we can’t shake no matter how many self-help books we read, conversations we have with friends, meditation retreats we attend… For some, the trait is being too closed off, putting … Continue reading

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reclaiming my “seine”

thanks to k, this is where i spent my saturday afternoon. the full story coming soon…!            

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Forgetting and remembering

Another literary stumble upon this week as I walked, bleary-eyed (the result of more than a fortnight of evenings dissolving into mornings with little sleep, whilst gestating an edited volume into submittable form — 98% there — and succumbing, unwittingly, … Continue reading

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Longing for a more civilized time

When was the time when editors reached out to their authors with such poetic caress in their writing? Take me there…   From the collection: Elizabeth Bishop and the New Yorker: The Complete Correspondence  

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